Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ You said you would never forget! ❯ Drunken hic Orito ( Chapter 4 )

A/N I still don't own Escaflowne… but I will make it happen one day!

 

The sky was bright blue with hardly a cloud in sight. The Sun was smouldering passionately behind him, casting a long shadow along the winding, extended outstretched road before him. The ever green grass from the farmer's fields surrounded the track ahead. Daisies and Daffodils began to flourish the pasture, normally used for grazing by the cattle. His surroundings were vacant yet vibrant, blank, yet quaint.

He travelled on in his horse and buggy. The horse was aging and frail. The buggy itself was not in a perfect state. The wood was chipped, scratched and dented, here, there and everywhere. The timber, wheels gave a slight squeak at every rotation. The buggy was also no work of art. It held only two people. And with the size of the occupant, it could handle no more passengers, however minute. The fabric was black and worn and the sheltered canopy above was non - existent. So no matter how vile the weather, he had to stick it out until he reached his destination.

His intention was to return to Akina for a day at the most two. And then to set back off to Westoni as soon as was physically possible with a certain some body. It takes about two and a half days to reach his homeland from Westoni, and vice versa. Hopefully, King Sai would know about the arrangements before his arrival with…

“God's this is going to take forever!” The road stretched on for miles and miles ahead of him. Orito rarely went to the countryside, and he never went there by choice. He only ever passed through when he was trying to seek out business deals. Orito himself preferred the hustle and bustle of city centres and capitals. Yet, he found himself thinking about scenery and the peaceful ambience… Taking in every single bit of detail, no matter how small. The shade of the grass, the irregular haze in the sky. And before he knew it, he was nearing a small village.

“Shit.” He suddenly shouted. The two - man carriage abruptly dipped violently to the left. Orito fell to the floor and the horse neighed in shock. The front left wheel had fallen to the floor with a loud clash that echoed across the meadows.

Orito laid spread eagled on the country road. He ungracefully picked himself up and stood and looked at the carriage. It was now lob - sided and the front wheel lay aimlessly on the ground a few yards away. He could just carry on the rest of the trip horse back. But his large, round belly would not allow him to clamber on to his `steed', that as well as his age. Even though he was only in his mid - fifties, he had the bones, the stamina, and the manoeuvrability of a seventy year old. The King Father of Westoni on the other hand would have no problem in the matter… who was in his seventies. He was known as a sports activist, and took part in many activities such as polo, fox hunting and show jumping.

In Westoni, only a rightful blood heir can take the throne. When the former Queen passed away, the title was left to her son, King Sai, not her husband as he was only married into the Royal family and was not a blood beneficiary. Thus, making him the King Father.

Orito walked a short way to the near by small village. “Urgh. Walking is overrated,” he thought. He took him a fairly long time to reach the village that was not far away from where he broke down. But his short, stubby legs could only carry his weight at a certain speed. Once he reached the outskirts, he spotted a small inn. The village was diminutive and quiet. No one was in the streets, and there was no sign of life from any of the houses. The houses were just small bricked houses with thatched roves. Most of them seemed to have a small garden. It was too quite and simple for his taste. He decided that the inn would be the best place to seek help in a situation like this.

He opened the door to the inn. It was small and cosy. Logs were burning merrily in the fire place. And ever so often an ember would shoot out of it, travel about six inches or so, and then burn out on the slates tiles that surrounded the fire place. The room consisted of about seven or eight round wooden tables with chairs that sat underneath on the wooden floor. And at each table there was an oil burning candle that lit the room nicely. To the back of the room was the bar that was highly polished and welcoming. Behind the bar stood a man with only half a head of hair. The top of his head stood bald for the entire world to see. The other was covered with black matted hair. He had a small beer belly covered by a pair of simple black trousers, a white shirt and an apron that tied tightly around his middle.

“What can a get ya my friend?” He said cheerfully, with a cheesy grin that stretched form ear to ear. He was busy pouring a drink for a couple who sat in the corner who appeared to be having a heated discussion in quite, inaudible whispers.

“I really shouldn't have anything to drink. I should just get my buggy fixed and be on my way,” Orito thought. “But I haven't had a drink in a while… and gods it is so tempting just watching the barman pouring that ale.” He watched in awe, as the man behind the bar slowly and carefully poured the drink into the glass. He saw the brown ale fizz when it reached the bottom, and the small amount of froth that formed at the top.

“Go on then,” he said, “I will just have a pint of ail.” “One won't hurt. Just a small pit stop… a little rest from travelling… before I set off again”

He took a seat at the bar where he struggled to place his abnormally large behind on the stood, with no prevail. So he dragged the neighbouring stool and stood the two together. Only then could he sit down, with two chairs holding his weight. He took his drink greedily and reluctantly handed over the money. He picked up his drink and took a long sip. He settled back down and rubbed off the foam moustache which appeared on his mouth.

He noticed that behind the barman was a piece of yellowing paper, which had the word `Vacant” written on it. Momentarily tempted to stay at the inn a few nights, but then changed his mind as quickly as he thought of it.

“Do you get many people stay here,” Orito asked whilst taking another drink from his glass.

The barman looked up, “Yes I do actually. You see, some people don't realize that this is a mid - way point.” Orito had a look of confusion on his face so the man continued. “You see, to the north of the village is Westoni, east is Fanelia, to the south, Akina and to the west is Austuria. Many people stay here the night when the want a rest from travelling. And there are no other villages between here and any of those countries. This is the mid - way point.” He said matter of factly. “Only long country lanes and forests from here, see? Well until you reach your destination that is”

“Oh, so you got yourself a fair little earner here.” Orito replied.

At that moment a door to the right opened. A man walked through and took a seat at the bar. He had obviously come from his room upstairs where he had been staying. The man had a friendly face about him, but at the same time he was rather intimidating. He was wearing an Austurain uniform, which suggested that he was a knight or a guard of some sort. His sheathed sword hung from his hip. He had shimmering blue eyes and long blonde hair that flowed down his back. Wait… Orito looked closer at his uniform… from the unique design… it seemed that he was a Caeli. Orito wondered for a second if he would be interested in buying a woman from him, he would obviously have a few pennies in his pocket. But then he changed his mind. He was too good looking; he could easily find a wife by himself.

“So where you off to?” The barman asked him.

“I'm heading back to Akina form Westonia. Got a bit of business to do.” He relied smugly.

“Oh, what's that?”

“Strictly confidential my friend, strictly confidential. But you will find out in time.”

“So what do you do for a living?” The innkeeper asked.

“I'm a merchant from Akina. I specialize in women you see. And I about to set myself up for an early retirement if this deal goes well.

After an hour of small talking, and many more pints of ale and large brandies which had flowed endlessly down Orito's throat, he finally said…

“Okay, okay - hic - I'll tell ya all about my deal.” He said rather drunkenly as if everyone in the bar had been pestering him about his work. “I am about - hic - to sell one of my - hic - ladies to the Westonian - hic - King,” pointing his finger at no one in particular. The blonde that sat beside him looked up form his herbal tea in interest.

“Who?” The innkeeper asked in curiosity.

“Hic - hic - Hito… - hic,” he coughed unable to get his words out. Then he said clearly “Hitomi - hic - Kansaki,” waving his brandy in the air. “Right,” he said standing up unsteadily, and attempted to take a step a way from the stools he had been sitting on and fell down on his face. He picked himself up and continued speaking, “what did I - hic - come in here for again? Aww yes, - hic - could I borrow some tools to - hic - fix my buggy?”

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Orito and the blonde knight were walking along the country road. The knight held up the old man with one arm, and held a tool box in the other.

“Kind, Sir, where are you heading?” He asked with a slur in his voice.

“Fanelia,” he replied shortly. The mans weight starting to hurt his already aching back

“Ah, lovely place - hic - Fanelia. I had the pleasure of going there - hic - once, after the re - construction of course. Marvellous place. What is your business there?”

“I am going to see Va -“ he cut himself off then continued. “I am going to see King Van. But I slipped a disk in my back during a practice fight in Austuria. I foolishly thought I could still travel. But my back got the better of me, and it cannot cope with sleeping on the floor. So I am staying at the inn for a few days until I recover. ”

“Ah, - hic - you're friendly with the King. I would not have - hic - thought that a knight would have connections like that.” The knight looked at him with disgust. “Are you friendly with the King?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

They reached the broken down buggy, and the Knight repaired the wheel within minutes. He then helped the man to sit in the seat.

“So,” the knight began, “How did you come across the famous Seer?”

“I - I, don't know” The Knight looked at him sceptically. He did know, but it was obvious he was too drunk to remember.

“When is she going to be sold?” the Knight asked hoping for some prevail from his questioning.

“I - I, don't know.” Anger flaring in the knight, he began to place the tool back in the box.

“What is your name young man?' Orito asked.

He looked up at the fat man. “Gods this man has some nerve” he thought.

“My name is Allen Schezar,” he said reluctantly. But Orito was oblivious to his tone.

“Thank you very - hic - much, Allen Schezar.” And with than, the old man set off down the road and through the village.

-------

Allen returned to the inn and unwillingly placed some money on the bar.

“I think that I will be here a couple more nights after carrying that obese oaf to his buggy.” He said.

The innkeeper looked up and asked “Do you think it's true? Do you think it's true that he is selling the Seer to King Sai?”

“I hope not.” Allen wanted to leave for Fanelia immediately to tell Van the news. But his back was preventing this.

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King Sai sat at his desk and looking through his paper work. He had short brown hair which framed his face delicately. His face was well defined and contoured. The Westonian King was a very masculine man, apart from the fact that he took great pride in his appearance. His body was proof of that. He took after his Father greatly when it came to sports and athleticism

There was a knock at the door. A portly man entered wearing the Westonian colours which were purple and white, who was a member of the Kings Council.

“I have come to ask your opinion?” He said

The King put down his quill and looked at him. “Is this going to be one of the things were you say you need my opinion, but in fact you have just come to inform me as I have no choice at all because all of the Council members have over ruled me?”

It was the way in Westoni that decisions were made by the King and his thirteen council men. The King would only ever be over ruled when all thirteen council me opposed his idea. This happened regularly over minute decisions such as what colour to decorate the guest rooms and so on.

“It is in fact that,” the councilman declared, whose name was Mino. “We have decided that it is time you should wed. You have been making excuse after excuse, and we feel that… it is time. We already have a lady in mind and she should be arriving at the palace in a few days time. She is perfect,” he said with a smile on his face.

“WHAT!” King Sai said angrily. There was no one in the vast palace that did not here him.